The Garden - Melissa Scott [45]
"Captain." The computer's cool voice brought her attention back to the screen in front of her. "The information you requested has been transferred to your terminal."
"Thank you," Janeway said, glad of the distraction, and reached for the screen controls. As she had expected, the compiled files held little more informa-
tion on Thilo Revek than Chakotay had already given her, but she read through them anyway, trying to get a sense of the feeling behind the baldly stated facts of birth and education. There wasn't much, but by the time she finished she was sure that at least some of the writers had disliked Revek. Chakotay had reported the same thing, and she leaned back in her chair to finish the last of her now-cold coffee, replaying her own brief encounter with the technician. He had been friendly enough, even helpful, but she had to admit that she didn't quite trust him. And that could be completely unfair, she admitted, a career Starfleet officer's instinctive dislike of someone who resisted authority, or it could be the sort of hunch she would be foolish to ignore. And right now, she added silently, she had no real evidence either way. She would have to wait and see how Revek behaved at their next meeting.
"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."
The familiar voice broke through her musing, and she snapped forward in her chair to answer. "Janeway here. Go ahead, Mr. Tuvok."
"Lieutenant Torres and I have our first report on the Kirse transporter," the Vulcan answered. "We would like to discuss it with you."
It wasn't like Tuvok to request a personal meeting before she'd had a chance to look over a report, Janeway thought, a sinking sensation growing in the pit of her stomach, and it was equally unlike him to overreact to anything. "Very well. Meet me in the ready room in-" She glanced at the chronometer, calculating times. "-half an hour."
She had given herself time to shower, and the hot water revitalized her, so that as she stepped into the ready room she felt ready to cope with whatever new crisis Tuvok and Torres had discovered. They were
there ahead of her, heads bent together over Torres's datapadd, but Torres looked up quickly as the door opened.
"Captain. I'm glad you're here."
Tuvok lifted an eyebrow, and the half-Klingon engineer flushed, the color staining her skin.
"Urn, would you like some saaba tea, Captain? I had Neelix brew us a pot."
Janeway hid her automatic grimace. As far as she was concerned, the only virtue of Neelix's brew was that there was an ample supply on board for those who could stomach it; to her, it tasted the way her dog had smelled when she came inside after a run in the rain. And I'm still not sure whether I dislike it because it tastes bad, she admitted, or because that bad taste reminds me too much of home. "No, but thank you, Lieutenant," she said aloud. "So. What have you got for us?"
Torres glanced at Tuvok, seemed to receive some silent signal, and plunged on. "I've run an analysis on the tricorder readings we took on the planet, particularly of the Kirse transporter in action. It's somewhat similar to our own transporter, but has some significant limitations."
She slid her datapadd across the tabletop, and Janeway glanced at the columns of figures filling the screen. "Give me a summary to start."
"It looks as though the Kirse beam is limited to molecular resolution," Torres began, "and it may only be able to transport metallic compounds, though my sim was less clear